Paul's Living Nightmare by sunshineandstars
by Twilight-Roleplay Contest
Summary: Second-place winner for the First TWILIGHT-ROLEPLAY CONTEST: It's that time of year again, and Paul's worst nightmare is on the horizon. What's he gonna do? Well, what any other angry, hot-headed wolf would!


**Twilight Roleplay Contest**: Paul Lahote. Rachel Black, Jordan. (Cannon/Cannon, OC mentioned.)

**Title:**Paul's Living Nightmare

**Author:**sunshineandstars (Hollie)

**Summary:**It's that time of year again, and Paul's worst nightmare is on the horizon. What's he gonna do? Well, what any other angry, hot-headed wolf would!

**Word Count:**1031

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything Twilight related, never have done and I probably never will do. I don't own any Roleplay characters, this is all just for fun. I like to mess around with them all :)

**For more entries, check out the contest at h t t p :/ w w w. fanfiction .n e t/u/3418535/Twilight_Roleplay_Contest**

**All entries are open to public; feel free to R&R, even if you are not a judge.**

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><p>This wasn't exactly how I saw my Saturday panning out - dragging myself round some stupid shopping mall. I hated shopping, and yet I was here out of choice. It wasn't exact choice, but Christmas shopping was one of the few times a year I realised I actually had to venture outside of La Push, and enter the dreaded shopping mall. I fought leeches for crying out loud, and here I was outside the mall, pacing, gearing myself up to go inside. I hated shopping. The bags cut into your skin, the assistants were pushy and rude, and I just have general bad memories of waiting in them for ages as a kid, waiting for Mom to pick the perfect dress. A perfect dress nearly every freakin' week.<p>

I could hear the crappy Christmas tunes from outside, and the fact that there was a snow machine above the door before you walked in. Well. That just made me wanna go in less and less. I might seem like a total scrooge, but I love Christmas. I just _detest_the weeks before it. I took a deep breathe, squared my shoulders, and entered the hellhole. Fake snow fell onto my head and shoulders, which I shook off instantly.

Shopping for the Pack would be easy. Rachel and Jordan were a totally different matter. I headed towards a sign, which had a list of shops on, and my mind went numb. Why were there 93 shops? Did there need to be 93? It just meant more time in here. Urgh.

With a low growl, I made my way to Target, grabbing various sweatpants, vests and socks. They'd be for the Pack, seeing as we shredding pretty much all we had. I tried to take my time, I really did. But then as I left, with a "Have a nice Christmas sir!", even though it's only December the 12th, I realised I now had to get Rachel and Jordan something.

My first thought was to get Jordan what I got the rest of the guys. But then I realised I couldn't really get her men's sweatpants and a vest. I'm sure she'd be thrilled. And my head would be gnawed off my shoulders. I sorta got the idea that Wal-Mart jewellery might not have gone down so well. It was only $5, but Jordan would probably prefer a punch in the gut than a $5 necklace. So I went back to the stupid long list of shops. Girl's shops. What was a girls shop? Damn. I should have paid attention to my mother. I looked at the list carefully.

Tiffany's. That was a no. No. And another no.

Zales. Another no.

Taos Trading. Taos was a Native word.

I sighed, seeing that this was on the second floor. This meant 2 escalators, packed with people doing Christmas shopping. This was the part I hated. I was too big for this thing, and the woman, whose screaming child kept kicking my leg, was way too close for my liking. Being midway on the escalator, between the woman, and a larger couple, meant I couldn't move. I wanted to scream. The sooner I was out, the better.

I reached the second floor in record time, determined to be in and out. But when I got in there, I was stunned. It was so native, I was so proud. I loved my heritage, and obviously so did the owners of the shop. There weren't many customers, who made me much calmer, and I wandered round. Half the Native symbols I didn't even understand. Damn, I needed to get good on my heritage. I saw a pair of bear paw earrings. They looked exactly like my paw prints, and I knew straight away Jordan would like them. They were the same colour as the bracelet I got her last year. So that was done.

Now Rachel. I'd never shopped for a girlfriend, let alone an imprint. This was where the panic set in. Jacob, Jared or Sam should be here helping me out. I looked around, but nothing stood out. I kept going back to the bracelets, until a small, older woman came over. She was definitely Native, that I could tell, but I couldn't tell where from.

"You seem troubled young man," she had a wise voice, and reminded me of Sue. I warmed to her instantly.

"I can't find something for someone. She's everything to me, my whole world. This should be easy, surely?" The woman laughed gently.

"When someone means that much to you, they are the hardest person to buy for," she took my hand and led me to the other side of the shop, where in the corner was a very small row of rings. Promise rings, wooden rings, picture rings, engagement rings, you name it, it was there.

"If you love her, but you don't want to scare her, try these," she picked up a tray of four promise rings, each different, and so obviously hand made. One cried out to me, and I picked it up delicately. It was wooden, carved, and had Quiluete words carved in. That was it. I paid for both the ring and the earrings, and said goodbye to the sweet old lady.

As I left the store, to my left was the escalators. And to my right was a two-storey window. It would be so easy just to jump. Freedom was calling me.

What I did next of course, was obvious. I turned to my left and joined the stupid escalator, holding my breath and counting the second until I could get off the stupid contraption. Two minute and forty eight seconds later, I was outside. I breathed deeply and grinned. I'd done it. I'd finally bought everything I needed. I went back to my truck, where my little Christmas list was. I'd written down everyone I needed to buy for, a way of spending less time in the hell hole.

Rach. Crossed out.

Jordan. Crossed out.

Pack. Crossed out.

Mom.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I looked at the sheet and looked at the mall. I felt like crying. Maybe this year, Mom could just go without.


End file.
